Sins of the Father
by Fallen-Gabriel
Summary: Peak into the minds of those who partake in a most unusual affair.


One-shot (There are two male roles in here, don't like don't read, but the one in **bold** print is one role while the one in normal print is the main role.) Edit: I fixed some of the bold so it's better now!

S-s-S-s-S-s-S-s-S-s

He hates himself when **he** does this – _**he's**__ tracing the muscles of his hand, and __**he**__ knows how much he loves __**his**__ hands as they glide over his burning skin and slowly peal his clothing from his bulky form_ – and knows tomorrow **he** will just be back for more. _Now he can feel the younger one's lips tracing his ear as he sits in his chair, trying desperately just to read the paper in front of his eyes and not feel those tricky little fingers rub over his chest, moving to circle around his nipples._

It's so wrong but he always wants more, and **he** knows that…that's why **he** always comes to him…Because **he** knows he'll give in eventually.

_He gasps when __**his**__ fingers rub just so over the buds, and instantly his back is right up against the back of the chair. His hands gripping the arms and all his muscles harden as __**he **__squeezes – not painfully – to the point where he hisses with pleasure and he…_

Almost can't stand it. It's all too real and all too painful at the same time. He is fucking the man's – who was like a brother to him – son! And yet…He can't even remember where this all started.

_He's growling, feeling those fingers leave him – because he wants more – and instantly there is a heat in his lap. __**He's **__come to straddle his waist – most of __**his**__ armor and clothes, except __**his**__ pants are gone because __**he**__ never wears under ware, they both know – and __**his**__ warm thighs settle on either side of his. And he hisses again because he can feel __**his**__ arousal against his own, like a warm burning sensation that spreads itself in little shocks up his balls and they gasp in unison._

If it's so wrong, why does it feel so good? It shouldn't! He should shove **him** out of his lap and onto the gods' damned ground.

_**He **__lowers his mouth and he pants when he feels that warm, moist muscle rub up against the pebbled bud of his left nipple, and even so far below his tabard…He can feel it. Arching into that pleasant sensation he groans as __**his**__ tongue rubs, rubs, and then __**his**__ whole mouth clamps down on the bud and sucks, hard. It's all he can do to keep from crying out and he grinds his hips up into __**his **__in a manner that has the other groaning around the piece of flesh in his mouth._

So wrong and yet so good, nothing should feel this good that should torture him internally in such away. He beats himself sometimes…Smashes his head into something hard until he bleeds, even though later he knows **he'll** ask questions and get angry. And **he'll** torture him by doing it to him…Over and over again.

_**His**__ tusks and sharper teeth scrape over that piece of sensitive flesh and he is panting, head thrown back and breathing hard he looks down at __**him**__ as __**he**__ pulls away and looks up at him with that heated gaze that has him burning. It has him pushing __**him **__to get off of him and stands, pushing his chair back to pin __**him**__ against his desk. "Turn around," he whispers into __**his **__ear and __**he **__does so almost gladly, even bending at the waist to press __**his**__ top half onto the cool wooden surface. He can feel his arousal, twitching and hardened below his pants and leaking pre, and he opens his pants without any sound. _

And it all comes back to him in a flash, why they do this little dance they do. Why **he** comes to him to relieve this pressure that builds up so deep inside him and has him gasping for breath. Because everyday a weight falls down upon him that keeps crushing him, every hour he spends here, and he needs a way to get rid of it and feel.

_The lube is in the drawer – they've done this too many times – but he still fumbles with it. And instantly he stops…He feels horrible, because he's burning and this armor is so heavy. Taking it off, he can see __**him**__ itching to help him. To peal his armor away and rub __**his**__ fingers all up and down the powerful plains of his back and arms. Over his thighs too as his pants fall, the powerful and heavy cock leaking pre jutting out there, and he can see __**his **__eyes trace over every plane of his form. And he flexes his muscles slightly, knowing it arouses__** him **__to the point of almost madness._

He blames it on what happened all of those years ago because for some reason – but he already knows the reason – he can't find it in himself to forgive **his** father. **His** father doomed him, but it was his fault. It's his own fault because in the end he chose to drink that vile crimson liquid that was like fire when it slid down the back of his throat and into his blood.

_He's more confident and he doesn't shake when he takes the bottle of lube from the drawer and spreads a large amount onto his thick hand and he can see __**him**__ almost grinding against the table because __**he**__ needs something in __**him**__. __**He **__needs to feel his aching length inside of him because __**he**__ needs this too. __**He **__needs the sense of powerlessness for even a small second for no one else can take it from __**him**__ like he can. And he touches his finger to the ring of muscle outside of __**his**__ opening and he feels __**him**__ tense when he does this. __**His**__ whole body squirms slightly when he does this and he chuckles, spearing his finger into __**him**__, and this causes __**him**__ to cry out and __**his**__ muscles to spasm and __**him**__ to gasp out in pleasure._

But at times like these – he forgets – because **he **is pinned below him and almost begging to feel his muscle deep inside him and pounding. To smell that musk in the air that has **him** blushing and crying out, rubbing **himself** back against him in an attempt to get even deeper than is really possible.

_He scissors his fingers deep inside of __**him**__ to spread __**him**__ wide, and he watches his fingers, so deep inside that warm hole. It's still too much for him to bear but he makes __**him**__ spread __**his**__ legs further to where he can get a bird's eye view of that beautiful hole. And he spreads some lube over his cock before he presses the head of his length to __**his**__ hole so he can feel the bulbous head before its shoved deep inside of __**him**__. Sweat dribbles down their bodies, and he can see __**his**__ blushing cheeks from here as __**he **__turns to watch him push himself into __**him**__._

**He's** so beautiful when **he** is like this, so exposed and with the color high in **his** cheeks. He loves to touch him while **he **is like this, because **his** skin is so sensitive.

"_How much do you want this boy?" __**He**__ looks back at him, making a sound in the back of __**his **__throat, wiggling __**his**__ ass at him. "__**Please, pound me gods' damnit!**__" __**He**__ says, looking at him with those pleading irises of __**his.**__ "So easy to give in boy? And you call yourself a warrior!" He says and grins at the pout that seems to spread across __**his **__features. "__**Please! I – I can't take it…its burning!**__" And he rubs __**his**__ balls with his hand to feel their hardness. "Burning…Alright." And he shoves himself in to where he is buried to the hilt…_

Somehow, inside of him, he can feel himself dying. He knows he loves **him** as he touches **him**, touches the son of his brother and pushes himself into **him** to where **he** is sore in the morning but still begging for him to touch **him** and pound that spot inside **him** to where **he** is screaming and crying out his name in pleasure.

"_**Please!**__" __**He **__screams into the desk, his hands pressed into the surface. He can feel his balls so hard, so full of cum and just ready to spill his load deep inside of __**him**__. "What do you want from me?" He asks as he rubs his head against a spot that has __**him**__ groaning and crying out __**his**__ answer, "__**pound me raw! Please…Oh gods, raw! Damnit…I need, more!**__" And he watches his length disappear into that tightness, rubbing those hot walls and splashing them with bits of his seed._

He loves it when **he **screams and lives up to that name that is **his.**

_Rubbing, grinding, and then he can feel __**him**__ grinding __**his**__ perky ass into his hips as __**he**__ wants more. And he does so, pounding __**him**__ to where __**he **__is panting and gasping for breath. "__**More! Gods' don't stop!**__" And he doesn't, he keeps rutting into him like a bloody animal because he knows __**he **__loves it. He feels balls slapping __**his**__ ass and his muscles tensed and ready to release, his cum running down the back of __**his **__thighs, a rough __squelch__ running through the air as he sends a particularly hard thrust into __**him.**_

It's all he can do to keep from strangling **him** and killing **him** whenever **he** comes to him. He needs the relief; they both do because they can't stand how it feels. He doesn't know if **he **loves him the way he loves **him** but…It will never be enough…

"_**Saurfang!**__" And __**his**__ muscles clamp down; a powerful chorus of spasms making __**his**__ canal ripple around his cock, causing him to cry out in dismay of the fact that he is losing all connection to the mortal world. He's slipping away and he doesn't care, hips gyrating so hard and fast it takes a moment for it all just to slow and stop to a full. "Garrosh," he whispers as he feels himself growing farther away, his eyes closing he pulls out and falls into the chair behind him._

**His** father doomed them; and in this hallowed frozen place he was just supposed to be 'teacher' but in a night – he couldn't seem to remember – he somehow became 'lover' and that's when he started to think about **him**.

_Saurfang's chest heaves but as soon as he regains himself he moves away from __**Garrosh**__ and into his private chambers for the night. He cleans himself and expects __**him**__ to leave because there is no reason he can think of for __**him **__to linger. So he returns to his bed and pulls the furs over himself. The fire is out and the room is cool, the window above him casting a strange glowing light over the walls. And it's only when he feels the rustle of furs to his right that __**he **__comes to lay beside him._

It's too painful and real at the same time. But he needs real, it's what keeps him sane enough to stay here…With **him**…And **he** needs him…

_There is a long silence and __**he**__ doesn't say a word. __**He**__ just places __**his**__ head on his shoulder and closes __**his**__ eyes, breathing becoming labored, he turns over to thrown an arm over __**him**__ and lets __**him**__ curl in close to him by opening his arm and letting __**his**__ head rest better on his shoulder, his arm spread the length behind __**him**__. "I love you." He whispers into __**his**__ ear and a tear rolls down from his eyes to land on the younger's chest and roll down into the furs. He lays his head on a pillow and as he drifts he can swear he hears, "__**I love you too,**__" from somewhere far away._

He just wishes that **he'll** be there in the morning…Because **he** loves him so much…

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You can make up your own ending. If anybody wishes to continue this story as more than a one-shot be my guest (please inform me of it so I can read it) to see if Garrosh was there or not. And I will update "Hell as We Know It" later.


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